


The Impala, Personified

by honeycombkween



Series: YoungMoose's Prompts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Angst, M/M, SPN 'Verse, that's pretty much it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycombkween/pseuds/honeycombkween
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Fill:<br/>Impala becomes human and hits on Cas. Dean gets mad at this.</p><p>For @carryonmywaywardhunk on Wattpad</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Impala, Personified

All in all, Dean supposes, this isn't the weirdest thing to happen to him.

He's survived djinn, vampires, wendigo, even the friggin' apocalypse; this was definitely not the weirdest to happen to the Winchesters. Yet here Dean was, nursing his third bottle of knock-off brand alcohol at three in the afternoon because when he woke up this morning to go for a drive, the Impala was missing.

Well, the car was missing.

Instead of the sleek, sexy, black and chrome behemoth of an automobile that Dean had built and rebuilt from the ground up, there was a person.

An admittedly attractive person, but a human nonetheless. That's not even the bad part. If you asked Dean to imagine the Impala personified, he would tell you that his Baby was a leather clad woman, hair down, makeup smeared, and wild. Respectable, attractive, draw-your-eye kind of ruggedness that only a bad ass lady could pull off.

Wrong again.

Because apparently, whatever god there was, absent or fake, decided that the Impala, his Baby, was a man.

That's just wrong.

This man, who introduced himself as Baby, was dark haired, moussed to an inch of it's life, with steel blue eyes and a strong jaw. He wore a well-polished black leather jacket, the back of the jacket emblazoned with KAZ-2Y5 in bold lettering. Underneath the jacket the man wore a black wife-beater, largely displaying a white devil's trap on the front of the shirt.

Peeking out of the collar of the man's, the Impala's, shirt was his very own tattooed initials, written with chubby eight year old hands using an old pocket knife, and Dean would be willing to bet money that Sam's were close behind.

"Baby" wore black skinny jeans and combat boots, an exact personification of what Dean thought his Impala would be, the only exception being the gender. And Dean was currently sitting across from the man (car?) himself.

"So roll this by me one more time," Dean says, voice gruff, "Who are you again?"

The man across from him on the crappy motel chair looks highly amused.

"I'm your Baby." He says simply.

Dean arches an eyebrow, appraising. He's not an idiot. His Baby is hot, and if they had met at a bar, or some other anonymous den of alcohol (not to mention it being insanely weird to hit on a car), Dean would be openly flirting. Ignoring the weird rush of pride at the fact that hell yes, his car is attractive, Dean leans back on the twin bed.

Sam shifts next to him, looking a little bit freaked out.

"And how did you go from being a car, to half the cast of Dirty Dancing?" Dean demands. "And why are you, y'know...a guy?"

His Baby merely shrugs however, still looking far too happy about this situation, "I'm exactly what you're subconscious saw me as, Dean. I guess you have a thing for dark haired, blue-eyed men." Dean definitely did not choke on air at that, and really did not need reminded of his pathetic feelings for Castiel, holier-than-thou Angel of the Lord, with his freakin' brother on the bed next to him.

His thoughts are interrupted by a now familiar flap of invisible wings. Mother fuck.

"Dean? Are you all right?" From over Dean's shoulder comes the gravelly voice of none other than aforementioned angel, Castiel, unknowing recipient of Dean's affections. Dean turns, taking in Cas' trench coat and spit-shined shoes with small smile. Cas' gaze drifts, and he stiffens minutely.

"Who's this?" He asks, looking at the man who has made himself at home in the motel chair, and it's Sam who replies.

"He says he's the Impala. One second, there was a car, the next day, there's this." Sam explains briefly, and already Cas' brow furrows cutely (not cute, goddammit) and he steps cautiously towards Baby.

"Well, hello there handsome." The Impala purrs, giving Castiel an obvious once-over. Dean's hackles rise. "So, an angel, huh? I remember the last time you were in me." Dean almost melts into the tacky nineties carpet, because he also remembers the last time Dean and Cas were in the Impala together. He shudders, erasing that thought from his mind.

Castiel, however, cocks his head in the trademark Cas way.

"Is that a flirtation?" Cas inquires, and Sam chuckles.

"You bet your ass it is, sweetheart," The Impala winks, and Dean's had enough of this. Cas might not return his feelings but Dean's car? This is ridiculous. Sam must have noticed Dean's scowl, because he jumps up.

"I'm going to head to the library, see if I can find anything that might reverse this. Don't worry, I'll take a cab or something." Dean nods and half waves in acknowledgement. The motel door snaps closed behind the Sasquatch, and Dean relaxes slightly. That is, until the Impala opens his mouth again.

"So, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Dean grits his teeth, dutifully ignoring Cas' confusion.

"I am still in possession of my grace...?" Damn Cas and his (adorable) clueless personality.

"Do you mind taking off your clothes? I'd love to see where angels hide their wings." The Impala stands, striding over to Cas in a clear violation of the angel's personal space, and for once Cas looks... uncomfortable. Dean decides to intervene.

"All right, that's enough, bucko." He pushes his way in between the Impala and Cas. It may come out a little harsher than intended, but this is Cas' honor.

The Impala holds up his hands in surrender. "Just having a bit of fun, Chief."

Something in Dean snaps. He shoves the Impala backwards, away from Cas. He's fuming. "Cas isn't just 'a bit of fun' Baby, so knock it off." The small motel room is suddenly suffocating, so he storms out the door, just short of slamming it closed behind him. Leaving Cas alone with Impala is probably a bad idea, but Dean needs to just breathe for a second.

He knows he's being irrational. If Sam were here, he'd say something like, "He's a spitting image of you, Dean," and okay, he flirts, yes, but Cas is more than that. He's special, he deserves to be treasured, not played with, and he's so...

Unattainable.

Dean sighs, slumping dejectedly down on the curb, and resting his elbows to his knees. Who does he think he's kidding? Out of all the people in this world, Dean had to be stupid and fall in love with an angel. Cas could have anyone, surely. There's no way he would choose Dean.

"Are you all right, Dean?"

The phrase 'speak of the devil and he shall appear' comes to mind. Cas lays a hand on his shoulder, crouching next to him on the curb. Ignoring the sparks he feels low in his gut at the physical contact, Dean replies.

"I'm fine, Cas. Jus' don't like how he talks to you." Dean cringes at the words. 'I care about you', he thinks.

"I care about you," Damnit Dean, not out loud. Shit, he's said too much. To his utter surprise, however, Castiel, Angel of the Lord, presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. His lips are warm, leaving a blush in their wake across Dean's skin.

"I care about you, too."

Dean cannot move. He's frozen. Dying, surely. Because that did not just happen. Slowly, with an expression of shock still surely etched on his face, Dean turns toward Cas, who is dutifully looking the other direction, light blush across his cheeks. 'Angels don't blush', Dean thinks dumbly.

"Cas-"

"I'm sorry, I-I'll go." Castiel stands, and Dean's brain is thawing slowly. Not fast enough.

"Wait, Cas-"

"I shouldn't have done that, Dean. Please just forget it, it didn't mean anything."

Didn't mean anything.

Of course. All of the air escapes Dean suddenly, and his blood runs cold. He vaguely registers that Cas has left in a whirlwind flap of his coat and wings. It didn't mean anything. Cas was just showing his gratitude. Dean didn't notice the swell of hope in his chest, like a balloon, until it was gone. Popped.

Detached, Dean feels like he is in a trance as he pushes himself off the concrete, lost in his own thought.

It didn't mean anything.

Well, it meant the world to Dean. And now it's gone; his world is gone. Dean isn't one for praying, but he'll take what he can get at this point. He opens the door to the motel room, flopping down on the musty twin bed with a sigh. The Impala is silent, staring.

So he prays.

'Cas', he thinks bowing his head, 'please, hear this. I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now, but this is pretty damn important. I'm sorry. I know you said it didn't mean anything, and maybe it didn't to you, but what you did in the parking lot of a shitty motel just now, I've been trying to do for years.

'I'm sorry you don't return my feelings, but please, if you could just come back, we can talk this through. We can forget it ever happened. Please, Cas, come back to me.'

"You're wrong." Castiel's way of greeting. He's standing stiffly on the other side of the bed, and Dean rises to meet his gaze. "How could you ever think I don't return your feelings?"

Dean does a double take. What?

"What?" he breathes.

"I gave up Heaven for you, Dean. I rebelled against my family. I gave my life for you. How could you ever think I don't care for you?" Castiel is righteous fury. Angelic, eyes glowing, and terrifying. But he cares about Dean.

Without thinking, Dean lurches forward and crashes their lips together, holding tightly to the lapels of that hideous coat Cas can never seem to part with. At first Cas stiffens, and for a second, Dean is terrified. 'This is a mistake,' he thinks wildly. But then Cas melts into his touch, returning the kiss with fervor and passion. Dean's hands come up to card through Cas' hair, the dark strands soft and downy. Cas' hands come to rest on his waist, and he moans at the first prod of curious tongue.

Opening his mouth, Dean tilts his head to allow better access, whining when their tongues meet, a delicious slide of flesh on flesh. Dean nips at Cas' lower lip, pulling him closer until they are flush at the chest.

Cas pulls back first, resting his forehead against Dean's, panting.

"I need you, too." He whispers against Dean's lips.

'

Outside in the parking lot, a pristine 1967 Chevrolet Impala appears in all of its chrome and black glory, a grinning man with mischievous amber eyes sitting in behind the wheel. He winks and disappears suddenly, leaving only a note taped to the windshield reading:

"You're welcome, Dean-o.

-Gabe,"

And a pile of candy wrappers where he was sitting not ten seconds before.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @kodabearthemagicalmentor 
> 
> Send me prompts!


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